


Rumble

by clairell



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom!Stiles, Daddy Kink, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, ice cream play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 07:29:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9425936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairell/pseuds/clairell
Summary: Derek and Stiles have sex during a thunderstorm.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Slight Daddy Kink  
> Everyone in this fic of age -- it's just role-play!
> 
> Enjoy!

Derek is a warm beating heart with muscled arms that so easily wrap around Stiles’ body.  Soft breath, facial scruff, that kind of music with an endless drumbeat that you feel like a pulse.  Low voice, eyes like a puddle of sheets easily tangled in.

There’s a rumble of thunder.

“Hm?” Stiles asks in response to the vibration he feels from Derek’s bare chest.  He peels his face up, rests his chin against mountainous pectorals.

“Are you scared?” Derek repeats, something glinting in his face.

Stiles inches his way up, mole-spotted chest sliding against Derek’s.  “Little bit,” he says softly, like the first few raindrops of a thunderstorm.

Derek threads Stiles’ hair between his fingers, humming and smiling lovingly.  “What can I do to make it better?”

“Kisses.”

Derek pulls in him into a kiss that tastes, at least Stiles imagines, like lightning.  Stiles’ spine is engaged, tingling and buzzing as if he’s just been struck.  His pupils dilate and he melts into the touch.

“Ooh,” he breathes.

“Good?”

Stiles smiles wildly.  “More.” Derek raises an eyebrow.  Stiles blinks.  “Please?”

Another kiss, harder.  The kind of lightning that splits the sky in half lights up the bedroom, taking the nightlights with it.

Stiles pulls away and makes a small noise.  “It’s dark.”

“Are you scared?”

Stiles nods vehemently, face buried in Derek’s full chest.  

“Stay put.  I’ll go get some candles.”

“No!” Stiles cried, hardening his muscles as he tried, futilely, to hold Derek to the bed.  “Stay.”

“I’ll be right back,” Derek softly chuckles, kissing Stiles’ temple.

“Scary,” Stiles says, pointing through the open bedroom door into the rest of the loft.

So Derek picks him up and sets him on his feet.  Stiles takes his hand and is led into the kitchen.  Derek grabs a flashlight and rifles in one of the cabinets for a few candles and a lighter. He turns around and finds Stiles digging in the freezer. 

Stiles emerges with a pint of vanilla ice cream and a small smile.  “Can we have this?”  He asks, voice soft.  “Because the freezer isn’t working and it might melt.”

Derek stands with an armful of candles.  “Didn’t you already have dessert?”

Stiles blushes, and is thankful Derek can’t see his cheeks in the dark.  He looks down.  “Yeah, but…” he sighs.  “Okay.”  He opens the freezer door to put it back.

Derek takes a spoon from the drawer.  “I didn’t say no.”

Stiles hugs the ice cream to his chest and smiles. “Get two spoons,” he says.

“We only need one.”

Stiles looks at him a little oddly.  He shrugs his shoulders and runs back to the bedroom.

Derek lights the candles and places them around the room; on the bookshelf, the side table, the dresser, and one in the adjoining bathroom.

Stiles opens the container of ice cream.  “Do you want some?”

Derek kisses his temple for being so polite.  “Not right now.”  He dips the spoon into the ice cream and Stiles tries to take it at first, confused when Derek hold onto it.  He scoops up a bite and holds it up.  “Open up, baby.”

Derek feeds Stiles ice cream for a while, smiling at the little noises he makes when Derek moves the spoon in a circle before putting it on Stiles’ tongue.

“Can I have some ice cream now?”

Stiles nods and gives the tub to Derek.

Derek twists his mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

“Eating ice cream with a spoon is kind of boring, don’t you think?”

Stiles shrugs.  “I like ice cream on cones better,” he says, lying back a bit.

Derek touches Stiles’ bare stomach lightly, making Stiles giggle.  “I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Why don’t you be my ice cream cone?”

Stiles giggles like crazy.  “How?”  

“I’ll put some ice cream on your tummy and lick it off.” Stiles nods in consent.

Derek spoons a few dollops onto Stiles’ stomach.

“It’s cold,” he says, almost surprised.

He watches as Derek wastes no time in cleaning him up.  He swirls his tongue in the crevices of Stiles’ abs, dips his tongue into Stiles’ navel, and kisses the sweet residue gently as he finishes.  

“All gone?” Stiles nearly moans.

Derek’s eyes fill with candlelight.  “Did you like that?”

Stiles nods.  “Especially the kisses.”

“Especially the kisses,” Derek hums in repeat.  He climbs up and kisses Stiles, lips cold and striking.

Stiles shivers.  “Do we have to go to sleep?” He whispers.

Derek laughs against his lips.  “It’s probably really late.”

Stiles sighs.  “Okay.”

“Why? Did you want to do something else instead of sleep?”

Blood rushes to Stiles’ cheeks, looking golden in the light of the candles.  “I’m…” he bites his lip.  “You know.”

Derek sits back, feigning confusion.  “I don’t think I do.”

“When you kissed my tummy.”  Derek nods.  “It…I’m _excited_.”

“For what?”

“You _know_.”

“I don’t think I do, Stiles.  You need to be more specific.”

Stiles huffs in frustration.  “Down there.”

“Oh, down here?” Derek asks, leaning forward and tickling Stiles’ toes.

Stiles writhed this way and that, giggling and begging Derek to stop.  “Not that far down!”

Derek moves his hand up Stiles’ leg, sending pleasure up Stiles’ spine.  “Here?” He asks, tracing his finger around Stile’s kneecap. 

Stiles shakes his head, smiling a little as he realizes what Derek is doing.  “Are you teasing me?” He whispers.

“I most certainly am not!”

“Yes you are!”

Derek’s hand slides further up Stiles’ leg until it reaches the fabric of his small, white briefs.  Stiles burns.

“Oh,” Derek says, as if realizing for the first time.  “Here?”

“Yes, please,” Stiles says, eyes wide.

“So polite.” Derek kisses his chin.

Stiles’ leg bounces in anticipation as Derek slides his underwear down.  His cock stands erect, the tip red and leaking.  “Will you put your mouth…will you kiss it please?”

Derek feathers his fingers over Stiles’ length.  “I don’t know.  Do you think you deserve it?”

“I’m a good boy,” Stiles whimpers.  “Please please please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

It’s kind of a perfect fit, Derek’s lips around Stile’s aching cock.  Derek sucks him off expertly; letting the tip hit the back of his throat, his tongue involved. Every so often, he stops just to suck on the tip and watch Stiles’ eyes roll back.  He gives it a few pumps with his hand.  “Let me know, baby,” he says, and then forces it in as far as it will go.

Stiles lets out a little cry of pleasure.  He grips the sheets in his fists and concentrates.  The whole feeling seems to surround him like an aura.  His stomach tightens.  “I’m gonna…”

There’s a white-hot lightning flash that illuminates the room as Stiles rains down the back of Derek’s throat.  At once, his whole body relaxes into the mattress, soft and pliant.  He breathes deeply and smiles blearily. 

“Did you like that?”

Stiles nods slowly.  “Thank you.”

Derek sighs, taking in the naked, orgasm-gold Stiles before him. Two of his fingers wander to Stiles’ ass, scissoring him open.  

Stiles moans.  “Are you gonna…?”

“Do you want me to?”

Stiles can’t do much but give him a guttural, “Uh huh.”

Derek finds the lube in the drawer and drips it on his fingers, more easily massaging Stiles’ hole open.  He puts some in his hand to warm it, then slathers his length.  He looks Stiles in the eyes as he plunges deep, air rushing from his lungs. 

Thunder.

He gives the first sloppy thrust.  “My God, Stiles.”

Stiles grabs his legs by the back of his knees, changing the angle a bit. Derek thrusts again and Stiles hums, nodding, _right there_.

Derek works himself into a rhythm, the sound he makes becoming a low growl.

“I’m gonna fill up, baby.”  He bites his lip.  “You ready?”

“Yes!”

“Yes…?”

“Daddy.”

He grips Stiles hips for the last few thrusts before filling him up deeply.  He tips his neck up, sweat beading, breath slowly returning to normal.

Stiles is silent for a moment.  “Can we have cuddles?”  He asks softly.

Derek nods, climbing into bed beside him, curling his body around him.

Stiles giggles once.  “I’m your ice cream cone, and you’re my big spoon.”

Derek kisses him on the temple.  He holds Stiles closer, bare bodies together like jigsaw pieces.   “My little spoon,” he says, voice rumbling low like thunder, the storm drifting further and further away from the loft.


End file.
